It Started With The Hawk's Death
by Mycroffed
Summary: There's a mission. Things go wrong.
1. Chapter 1

"Barton, talk to me." Phil bit his lip as he waited for his partner to respond. "Barton, come in." Normally, when Clint didn't answer, it just meant that either his earpiece was playing up or that his hearing aids were failing to work. But this time, Phil could hear some of the background sounds coming from Barton's ear piece. He was starting to get more and more worried that he didn't get a reply. "Clint, come on, this isn't the time for a prank."

Still no reply. Phil ignored the mission – there were enough agents to complete it without his help – and took off to go and check on Clint. He needed to be sure that the archer was alright. He started to run towards the place where he had last seen the man. As panic spread through his stomach, he could only run faster.

And there he was. Clint Barton was laying on the ground, unconscious. Phil rushed to him and fell on his knees next to him. "Clint, please, don't be dead, don't be dead…" He whispered as his fingers fumbled to check the archer's pulse. It was way too weak, he realized. This way, Clint wasn't going to make it.

He quickly used his earpiece to contact Natasha and tell her to get a medical team to where he currently was. When she asked what was wrong, why he needed it, he refused to answer. Natasha kept trying to bother him about it, but he wasn't answering. In fact, he turned his earpiece off so that nobody could bother him anymore while he tried to make Clint as comfortable as possible in his last moments.

 _How the hell had this happened?_

The mission had started great. Clint had been on the roof, where he had been shooting arrow after arrow until he had ran out – and contrary to popular belief, he _did_ carry more than 11 arrows at a time. But then he had ran out – man, there were a lot of bad guys running around – so he left his safe spot up on the roof and he fought hand on hand with the bad guys that were making their life hell. He vaguely heard the other Avengers coming in via his earpiece – that also functioned as his hearing aids, thanks Stark – but he rarely reacted to it. Only when he was given direct orders did he give a brief sign of acknowledgement.

Phil as the one to give him orders most of the time, but sometimes there was something else, just a simply check-in in the style of 'How's it going there, Barton?' or 'Ran out of arrows yet?'. Clint couldn't help but smile as he replied 'just fine, sir' or 'ran out ages ago, sir, do try to keep up'. None of the other Avengers reacted to this, since it was their little form of flirting, of checking up on the other. As long as he replied, everything was fine. It was only when the other side of the line stayed dead that the other had to worry.

They'd been going steady for about four weeks now, and this was their first major battle. Of course there'd been smaller fights – a single bad guy that the two of them could take down – but it was still different, going out with all the Avengers, knowing that everything could easily go wrong. Not that they were planning on letting it go wrong – of course not, they'd be stupid.

So about halfway during the battle – that's what Clint hoped anyway – Phil once again checked in one the archer. "So, Hawkeye. Are there still a lot of enemies down there?"

Clint had smirked – not that the other had been able to see that – and replied: "Yes there are, they keep coming. Why are you asking? Are you jealous that I get to fight while you're coordinating us all?"

Now it was Phil's turn to roll his eyes. "Of course I'm not jealous. I was simply wondering when you might be done shooting and killing bad guys so that we can have some fun of our own."

"Aww, my little Phil wants to play." Hawkeye grinned. During the conversation, he'd been mainly focussed on the guys in front of them, taking them down one by one, but he hadn't been looking over his shoulder – why should he? There were enough camera's in the neighbourhood that Phil could warn him that there was someone sneaking up on him. But Coulson had been distracted too. With how Clint's muscles moved, mainly, as he was fighting off the people that kept coming at him.

"First of all, little Phil's not yours, even though he does what you want most of the time, and second of all, don't pretend like you don't want the same. Just to come home and have fun with me." Phil's voice had dropped down a few levels, which betrayed just how eager he was to get Clint out of the mob of angry people who had it out for him.

Clint didn't reply to the agent since he was a bit distracted. He was also being shot in the back. He groaned softly as pain soared through his back as he was hit three times between his shoulders. He refused to fall to the ground and instead, he turned around to face the man who had shot his. He took out his gun – he was on no state for hand on hand combat – and shot the man in the neck. He dropped down almost immediately – dead.

Clint let out an appreciative noise before he as well collapsed onto the ground. He could hear Coulson almost yell into the coms, demanding him to respond, but he didn't have the strength anymore to do so.

Then time became funny. He was aware that things were happening to him, but it felt like they were happening to someone else. He could see Phil running towards him but he couldn't even be bothered to react as the man was mumbling "Clint, please, don't be dead, don't be dead…" At least Phil was here. If he was going to die, at least it was with the man he loved the most.

Phil couldn't believe that this was really happening. He loved this man to pieces, why the hell did he have to die? He gently took Clint's head in his hands and pulled him closer to him without hurting him too badly. "Come on, Clint, please wake up. I need you."

Clint slowly opened one eye to look at Phil and he sighed in relief. At least there was a chance that he' recover now. He was going to recover, right? Phil quickly checked the body of the archer over to check out what had happened. When he spotted the three bullet holes in his back, his heart sunk. _No. This can't be happening_.

He once again called for medical attention, but nobody answered his calls. Either they already were on their way, or they weren't coming at all. Coulson just wished that they were close. In the meantime, he just kept talking to Hawkeye, trying to get him to stay with him, but he soon realized that it was of no use. With every breath Clint took, his heartbeat got weaker.

"Clint. Please, don't leave me. I… I need you." Phil's eyes were filling up with tears. "I can't let you die here, I love you. I've never loved anyone as much as I have loved you. Please, don't die on me."

Clint's eyes flickered briefly with recognition and his hands started to move, forming a simple gesture. _I love you_. After that, his hand fell limp, his eyes closed and his chest stopped moving. Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, was dead.


	2. Chapter 2

Work Text:

Phil couldn't believe it. The mission was over now, it had been for ages now – or at least it felt like it, Phil had lost all track of time – and yet he still thought that he'd wake up soon, that he'd wake up in Clint's arms, holding him tight and giving him a soft kiss. But no, this was the cold reality he was living in now. Clint was gone and he was all alone. Of course he still had Nick, still had Maria and Jasper, but they were different, they were his best friends, not his lover.

He missed him. He missed Clint so much and he would give everything he had to get him back. If only there was something he could do to turn back time or whatever. It had been ridiculous. Four weeks. Four weeks after he had finally found the guts to ask the archer out. Four weeks and then Clint died. Four damn weeks.

Nick had given him a new team, something to distract him, an opportunity he took with both hands as he buried himself with work. He had Agent May who was looking after him and he had an amazing team that completed every single missions they set out on. He was successful and as he worked, he almost forgot about how his lover was dead, about how he couldn't sleep at night because the nightmares were still haunting him.

Three months after the mission, the Avengers had decided to come over to have a serious talk with Phil. He was sitting in his office, behind his desk, as the others were all standing in front of it, staring at him. He was doing paper work, trying not to think about what news they might have. It couldn't be about the funeral, because that had been months ago, so what the hell did they want from him?

"Phil, could you please stop for a moment?" Natasha was the one who spoke first. Apart from Phil, she'd been the most wounded after Clint had died. After all, she had been _his_ best friend.

Phil sighed deeply before looking up. "What? What the hell is your excuse to come and talk to me?"

"Come on, Agent." Stark said. "Gotta work with us here. We have good news. Well, sort of."

"What news can possible good? Is it about Clint?" It couldn't be about his will either, because the archer had left everything – including his bow and quiver – to the agent. "Just get on with it, that'll be easier."

"He's here."

Clint was confused when he woke up. He was supposed to be dead, he was sure that he was dead. He blinked a few times before he tried to push himself up. He couldn't even get one arm ready to push himself up before a nurse came rushing in, pushing him down again almost immediately.

"You've got to rest, Mr Barton . You've been shot three times, you barely survived your attack." The nurse said, her voice kind and soothing.

"Wh-what happened?" The archer mumbled softly once again pushing himself up from the bed. "Why… Why can't I remember?"

The nurse looked at him sympathetically, letting him sit up. If he was going to go too fast, then he'd stop by himself, probably. "You were in a serious fight, sir. We had to operate on you. And we're sending you to a place to recover, agent Barton. You'll be back to how you were before you know it."

Clint smiled slightly before he laid down again. "Okay, Imma take a nap first though."

"Go ahead, sir, sleep tight."

The next time that Clint woke up in S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ was three months later. He had returned from a stay at Tahiti and it had been a magical time. He pushed himself up – his wounds were completely healed – and left his bed. He went to grab breakfast and then he knew he had to check in with Coulson, let the man know that he was back and that he was ready to go back on missions.

He was eating one of the four protein bars he had grabbed at breakfast as he made it to Coulson's office. But the man wasn't there. Huh. Well, that was a surprise. But not so unusual, the man was probably on a mission. It was just unusual that he went on missions without him or Natasha. After all, they were Strike Team Delta.

No, Strike Team Delta was broken up a few years ago so that he and Natasha could become part of the Avengers initiative. And Coulson had become their handler. So he didn't need to go to Coulson's office, but to the Avengers Tower. He started his second protein bar as he left the building and took the tube to the Tower. He got some weird looks from people who were sitting next to him, but he simply smiled and ignored them. Yeah he had been gone for quite a while, but he had been wounded quite badly.

He quickly arrived at the tower and walked into the lobby. Jarvis immediately greeted him. "Welcome back, Mr. Barton."

"Thank you, Jarvis." He grinned quite happily. "It's good to be back."

What Clint didn't know was that Jarvis was warning the other Avengers that he had returned, since neither of them knew that he was still alive. Well, Clint thought they knew, he thought they knew he had been in Tahiti for three months, but they didn't. Fury had kept this from them.

So a few minutes later, everybody – including Coulson – came running towards him, like he had been dead and suddenly he had turned up again, all alive. Where he had suspected that Natasha would reach him first, it was Coulson who wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss.

Clint pulled away quite fast, laughing awkwardly. "Did you really miss me that much, sir?" He ran his hand through his hair as he stepped away from the Agent. He had had a crush on the man for ages now, but he didn't remember ever asking him out – or the other way around – so why the hell did this man suddenly kiss him like they had been doing that for ages?

He looked at Natasha, who was simply narrowing her eyes at him. A quick glance at the other Avengers told him that he had done something wrong, something off. He frowned and looked back at Coulson – only he wasn't there anymore. Clint could only see his jacket disappeared in the doorway.

So there he was, frozen in confusion, as he watched Natasha run after Coulson to talk to him.

Clint had forgotten him. _Clint. Had. Forgotten. Him_. Was three months really all it took? Granted, they had only been together for four weeks, but the archer had told him that he had had a crush on him for years before Coulson had asked him out. So how could he have forgotten him so fast? Plus, Clint had been dead. The paramedics on scene had declared him dead, they had declared him hopeless. So how was the archer walking again? How could this man, this impossible man, be alive?

He didn't realize that he'd been crying until Natasha reached him and wiped his tears away. She pulled him in a tight hug – she had been one of the few who knew about the two of them, along with Maria and Jasper.

"We'll get him to remember again, Phil. You know we will. And we'll figure out what happened to him. The two of us together, we'll go talk to Fury."

Phil nodded slowly as he looked at her. "Yeah. We'll go talk to Fury. How about we go now?"

"Yes, let's go now." She faked a smile as she guided him towards the elevator, getting ready to demand answers from Fury.

"Clint. Do you remember what happened?" Stark was the first one to speak after Natasha and Coulson had left the room. Clint still hadn't moved as he was trying to figure out what he had missed.

"Did… Coulson – did Phil and I have a relationship before… Before I got hurt?" He asked softly. He might not remember anything of the kind, but the reactions of the other Avengers told him that he hadn't just been wounded, that he might have died, which also explains why he couldn't remember anything. But then came the question, what the hell had happened and how the hell was he still alive?

Suddenly, everybody was looking away from him. Steve was staring at his shoes – which weren't really that interesting to be honest – Bruce was staring out of the window and Stark took out his phone and tapped away on it. Thor was the only one who had no idea what was going on.

"You and Son of Coul did form a couple for about four weeks." Thor said – well… - which earned him a glare from all the others.

"Thor!" Steve hissed, he didn't know how Clint would react to this news.

"We were…?" Clint asked softly.

"Yes, Legolas, the two of you couldn't stay away from each other. It was like the two of you were attached at the mouth." Stark couldn't help but smirk.

"How…?" He started, but as memories slowly returned, he had a flashback about how Coulson asked him out.

 _"Clint!" Hawkeye turned around to see Coulson run up to him. A smile spread on his face as the man caught up with him._

 _"Hey, Coulson, do you need me for something?" He smiled softly._

 _"I was just… wondering." He looked nervous, Clint realized. Why the hell was his boss nervous? "Would you like to go out for dinner with me tonight?"_

 _"Yeah of course."_ Aw, sweet _. Clint was grinning widely as the senior agent asked him out. "It's a date, right?"_

 _"Yes. Yes it's a date. And I can't wait." Phil smiled, pressed a soft kiss to Clint's cheek and then walked away again, very pleased with himself that he had finally asked the man he had loved from a distance for ages._

"Clint!" A shout pulled him back to the presence. "Barton, come on, buddy, time to wake up again."

He soon realized that it was Stark that was trying to get him back, out of his memories. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here, I'm back again."

"What the hell happened?" Steve asked softly, worried about the archer.

"I remembered. I remembered him asking me out. I need to talk to him, Steve. Where is he?" There was only one _him_ he could be talking about. "Where is Phil?" He didn't even wait for a reply before he ran out of the room, looking for the lover he had forgotten for three months.

Once he was out of the room, he spotted the elevator lights arriving at the bottom floor. He cursed softly to himself before running down the stairs, trying to catch the two others before they leave the building. He could – once again – see Coulson leave when he arrived at the ground floor. He yelled the man's name, trying to get his attention. "Phil!"

And the Agent turned around. His tears were a bit red and Natasha had her hand on his shoulder for support. "Barton…" He whispered softly, without moving. He just stood there, staring at the archer, not really knowing what to do. He was too hurt to run immediately in his arms.

"You used to call me Clint." The archer whispered softly as he stepped just a bit closer to Coulson. "And I'm starting to remember." His voice was still not more than a whisper, but his eyes tear up as well. "Phil, I'm so sorry, I'm starting to remember and I know I hurt you but please… Don't push me away. I need your help, please." While Phil had been begging him to stay alive just three months ago, this time it was Clint who was begging Phil not to leave him. "Please…"

"Clint." Phil said it softly. He wanted to go to the archer, wrap his arms around him, but he felt like it was too soon. "What do you remember?"

"You asking me out." Clint answered softly. "But it might come back soon. Do you know… do you know what happened to me? Why… I don't know why I can't remember you."

His voice broke slightly as he said those last words and that caused Phil to lose the last bit of willpower he had and rush towards Clint, wrapping him in his arms and once again kissing him deeply and passionately, just like he had done ten minutes earlier, but this time, Clint was returning the kiss, holding Phil as close to him as he possibly could.

Natasha coughed awkwardly when the two men hadn't moved away from each other a good three minutes later, which caused the man to break apart – well, they were still holding hands – and turn towards her.

"Are we going to talk to Fury or not?" She asked and both men just nodded and followed her out of the building, back to S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ.

It took Clint another three months before he remembered everything, the battle, how he had died, how he had fallen in love with Phil before that. The talk – that had turned into an argument rather than a talk – with Fury hadn't really helped, expect for getting the senior agent irate with the director. The two of them hadn't talked for weeks until Maria managed to convince Phil to talk to Nick about it.

The friendship between the two of them was still not back to the level it had been before Clint died, but it was slowly recovering – mainly because even Clint told him that he couldn't be angry with him forever.

Phil worked happily with his new team, coming home every so often to see Clint and Clint tried to switch between helping Phil with the new team – he could get along almost perfectly with May and Skye and in a lesser extend with FitzSimmons – and going on missions with the Avengers. The two of them spent more time together than ever before and it surprised nobody that on the two year anniversary of Clint's 'death', Clint had gone on one knee for Coulson and asked the man to marry him.

Another three months later, the two men exchanged vows and everybody cheered, happy that against all odds, the two men had found each other in love and marriage.


End file.
